What follows here is a fictionalized account of a mission that this Steven Cavanagh fellow apparently ran. It's quite entertaining, contains some good roleplaying, and fills out the fiction part of my web-pages nicely. I'm sure that with only a little work, one can distill the text into a mission to run.

  _.------------------[ Tales From the RPG of    ]-------------------._
 /  .---------------------------------------------------------------.  \
|  |            ______ ____________   ___      ________              |  |
|  |          /  _____|____    ____| /   \    |   ____  \            |  |
|  |         (  (___       |  |     /     \   |  |____)  )           |  |
|  |          \____  \     |  |    /   ^   \  |   __    /            |  |
|  |_______________)  )    |  |   /  /~~~\  \ |  |   \  \ ___________|  |
|   _________________/     |__|__/__/   __\__\|__|    \______________   |
|   __________  \          /  /   \    |   ____  \   /  _____________   |
|  |          \  \   __   /  /     \   |  |____)  ) (  (___          |  |
|  |           \  \ /  \ /  /   ^   \  |   __    /   \____  \        |  |
|  |            \  ` /\ '  /  /~~~\  \ |  |   \  \ _______)  )       |  |
|  |             \__/  \__/__/     \__\|__|    \____________/        |  |
|  |                                                                 |  |
 \  `---------------------------------------------------------------'  /
  `---------------------[Adventure Eight, Pt 1]-----------------------'

Asti : Female Young Jedi. Quiet, cool-headed and sensible.
Stoge : Brashest Pilot.
Straun Solarwind: Young Jedi, trying to follow in his father's footsteps.
Dar : Muscled black native. Prefers the ways of his people to technological means. Uses an ornate sword with his great strength.
Karlos Trialeki : Eight-gun slinger. Deadly with firearms. Running from his past.
Surge : Combat Medic. A man of medicine, knowledge and action.
Menarggrah : Tough, intelligent Wookiee.

[GM'S NOTE: Sorry it's taken so long to get everything back together, guys, but I've finally finished adv 8 and will post it in five parts. I had been reposting the stories until my DIALix account ran low and have just topped it up, so that's why I stopped the recent reposting after adv 4. Nobody seemed to notice, so I'm not reposting the stories in between unless enough people scream.

Part of this adv (the first 2 bits) has been posted here before, but I thought it'd be best to post the whole adv from the start so you can remember where the PCs are and what they're doing. ]

                             ----\\----

The orb that Asti was looking at was slightly bigger than her fist, a mere stone, but it too was poised in space. And it too was kept in place by the same thing as the planet she was sitting on; the Force.

An eguale hatchling chittered curiously behind her, on the other side of the fence, but she paid it no attention. Still breathing heavily after another of the exhausting runs that Tiacc had sent them on, she watched her teacher intently as he remotely raised the stone to head height and turned to her.

"Catch it" he said as the stone dropped.

She almost dived for it by reflex, but stayed in her sitting position and instead cast her senses forward in her place. She could feel the rock as palpably as if it were in her hand, yet without touching it. The latent Force in everything became apparent; she was even conscious of the Force in the space BETWEEN herself and the stone. It halted before it was halfway to the ground.

"Easy" she said confidently.

"Now make it move" he said. "Fast".

Clumsily, she did. The stone darted in random patterns. Twice it slipped from her concentration, but she caught it before it reached the ground.

Tiacc nodded. "Now, Straun" he said.

Asti flung the stone high, releasing it from her control. It reached the top of it's arc and stayed there, then spiralled gently down. Focusing carefully, Straun reciprocated the lesson as Tiacc bent over Asti and whispered soft instructions.

The son of Miguel Solarwind marvelled at how easily such tasks came to him now. He was unsure of whether the Force was becoming stronger within him or he was merely more conscious of it's presence. What he was sure of, however, was that as he and Asti grew stronger, so did the responsibility they carried as a burden.

There was a (ksssh) as Asti's force lash activated and she stood up, blindfolded.

"Be calm, and conscious of the stone" instructed Tiacc. Asti's head moved from side to side with the action of the target.

Straun struggled to maintain concentration and keep the stone aloft as Tiacc blindfolded him too. "Do I attack her with it?" he queried.

"NO!" Tiacc retorted suddenly, sternly. "No. Such a misuse of this ability is of the dark side. You cannot risk opening yourself to the dark side. Ever". He turned away, peering into the past as he added "Some have thought that they could call on the dark side just once, and then forsake it. Their folly consumed them".

Tentatively, Straun moved the stone around Asti, carefully manipulating it to be her target rather than his weapon. It was a seemingly simple game that tested both young Jedi to the limits as they sensed each other's actions and reacted accordingly. When Asti swatted the stone into particles they exchanged roles.

Karlos tried to keep his eguale quiet as he rode toward the house, knowing how the two Jedi-in-training needed uninterrupted time to train. The need for concentration in order to achieve mastery was something he could relate to personally.

The gunfighter had just come from Mol Danta, where he had been fortunate enough to find a gunsmith. The small, concealable firearm that he had wanted for a long time would soon be his, given sufficient time for the tradesman to craft the weapon.

He glanced upward, noting the position of Agost's single sun. Soon the others would be arriving in the FELL INFIDEL, possibly with another cargo run for them to make some money before heading back to the USURPER in just under a week. Touching his electrospurs to the chitinous hide of his mount, Karlos headed for the stable.

                             ----\\----

"A mail run?" Straun echoed in disbelief. He had thought that Agost was primitive!

The stranger aboard the INFIDEL, an older human named Kockhic, turned mildly defensive. "My system, Buutil, is very outer-rim and has been cut off from the galaxy since the collapse of the Old Republic. Imperial connections have just been established and the system re-opened to galactic trade. Our FTL comm transmitter will be operational in two months, but until then.." he let the sentence die off, unneeded.

Stoge shrugged. "It might be old, but I ain't arguing with cold hard credits" he put his feet up on the holoprojector and lay back on the lounge, hands behind head.

Dar seemed content, having recently had the concept of "mail" explained to him. Surge considered the delivery somewhat quaint, and intended to study their destination and it's regressed culture before they returned.

Menarggrah waited patiently for them to get used to the idea, turning his new weapon over in his hands with satisfaction. When they had returned to the USURPER after their savage firefight in the Indibronai system, they had found that a Rebel team had obtained a bowcaster during a covert mission to Kashyyyk. It was now his, and though he was more skilled in the use of blasters, it was a Wookiee weapon and connected him with his homeworld.

Asti considered the mail run a waste of time. She burned with a desire to rescue her father, but helplessly acknowledged that she didn't even know what system he was in, to say nothing of the fact that breaking into an Imperial detention facility was next to impossible. She accepted the fact that she was part of a team and hence needed for the mail run, and took her place at the sensors/shields station. The mail (three small crates full of datasticks) had already been loaded, and the FELL INFIDEL flashed toward the outer rim.

                             ----\\----

When the Antrola medium transport blasted down from overhead, many a hat was raised as the locals craned to see; even though the system was opening up to trade again, such a sight was still a rarity.

The ramp swung down slowly, settling into the dust as Kockhic ambled down it with thumbs hooked through his belt. Menarggrah and Dar followed with the crates, the others taking in the scene. Kockhic paid them the balance of the delivery fee.

"Y'all wanna join me in the cantina?" he said in his strange accent, nodding toward one of the larger plasticrete buildings. Stoge strutted toward it in answer, and they all followed him down the broad main street.

Surge was immediately interested in the older architecture of the houses in the town of Linkun Cownti, noted that it expressed a different, though predominantly human, culture, then observed the three old speeder bikes at the front of the cantina. They were tied to a rail.

Asti glanced upward at the sign overhead. The name of the cantina was "The Sloon". Stoge went to push through the Mynock-wing doors, but they opened automatically for him.

Inside was small and dingy, and the first thing they noticed was the music. In the far corner a three-armed being wearing a pinstriped garment with three black armbands and a visor atop his head was playing a gigantic keyed instrument held up by repulsors. Scruffy, rough-looking types sat at various tables eyeing them suspiciously, and a whiskered bartender looked them over while cleaning a glass with a grubby rag.

As Karlos entered, the music stopped.

There was an uncomfortable silence as the locals stared at him with beady eyes. One or two also gave indignant looks to something behind the Rebels. All turned to notice Veet, who had followed them in and was now feeling very self-conscious.

"Er" he said "Maybe I'll just wait outside". He wheeled around and vanished out the doors.

Stoge, Dar and Karlos approached the bar as the others took a table. Stoge plonked an elbow on the bar and drawled "Gimme a Centukki Burbinn W'iski, Barkeep!"

"A Whut?" the burly man retorted.

"Hmm" Stoge pondered his options. "In that case, set me up three fingers of yer best hot-breather!"

"Make it two" added Karlos.

"I'll have a cool water" ordered Dar.

The bartender switched his gaze to the muscled native. "We don't serve yer kind in here, mister" he growled.

Stoge flinched, looking to his friend and waiting for him to start tearing the bartender into small twitching pieces. Instead, Dar merely shrugged and went to the table, seating himself with the others. Once again, Stoge muttered in disappointment.

"Don't take offence, mister" said a voice from another table. "He don' know yer from offplanet".

Dar turned. Two tables away sat a grizzled old man hunched over a half-drained bottle. He stood wearily and approached the Rebels, revealing as he did so the old blaster pistol on his hip. Karlos immediately recognised both the deliberately non-threatening and veteran aspects of the way he carried himself; he knew a gunfighter when he saw one.

"G.P Vakayshin's the name" he tipped his battered hat to Dar. "You ever seen a swoop, one a'them engines that fly? we call swoop riders 'Engines' round here, and yer skin's black like a member of The Red Engines that hassle the town from up in the Sam Hills. Barkeep's losin' business causa them".

"Why don't you take them out?" interrupted Karlos, indicating the man's blaster. G.P turned to face Karlos, and a silent appraisal took place before a shadow crossed his wrinkled face.

"Shoot" he said. "What're we gunna throw a posse together with? I used ta be pretty good in m'day, but I'm too old. An' mosta the people in Linkun Cownti are simple folk, they cain't tote no shootin iron!"

His features grew darker still. "Anyways, thet gang ain't the biggest problem we.."

"Hey!" interrupted one of the locals from another table. He stood up and approached Asti with a wandering eye. "Yer a mighty purty lady, missy".

Asti appraised him cooly, saw that he was drunk, ignored him.

Unsteadily, he came up to her. "Howzabout you 'n me go fz forzifth fhun?".

She stood up and stared him down. "No, thank you" she said politely.

He gave a disgusted, angry look. "Look, when I wanna woman, I don't szpecta be.." he finished incoherently and, grabbing her roughly, planted a sloppy kiss on her mouth.

Immediately several of the rebels stood up and moved to help Asti, but there was no need. Pushing him away, she gave a solid right to the jaw that sent the man reeling, then sat down again.

Some of the man's besotted friends leaped from their seats and came at the Rebels with clenched fists. The bartender sighed and ducked down behind the bar. Surge and Straun stayed seated and resumed calmly talking to Kockhic and G.P as a brawl erupted.

Instantly, the music started up again.

There was nothing that many of the locals loved more than a good fight, regardless of the reason. A watching bystander even picked up a chair and enthusiastically smashed it over the head of Karlos, who had been keeping out of it. The gunslinger snarled and took him on with darting fists.

Menarggrah stormed toward the man who had hassled Asti, flinging aside offending articles of furniture that stood in his way. Picking the man up by the collar, he turned around and snarled full in his face.

Stoge, getting into the spirit of things, stood on a table and, gauging the distance to the man in the Wookiee's grip, swung from the rough wooden chandelier hanging from the roof. Flicking his feet up, he gave a solid double-footed kick to the back of the man's head, then swung back and dextrously landed on the table again, sliding on two beer coasters. The man's head was snapped forward onto Menarggrah's, and after giving a glazed look, the drunk threw up all over the Wookiee.

Four of the brawlers went for Dar at once. He slammed one into a wall with a great punch, then ducked a chair that another threw at him. It flew across the room and landed in front of Straun, who promptly sat it upright, put his feet on it and resumed talking.

Stoge, intending to give Dar some help, swung from the chandelier again and launched himself at one of the burly native's assailants, who ducked. The pilot crashed through the Sloon's window in a shower of glass and landed in the dust outside.

Karlos punched his opponent hard to the torso, then turned and lifted a chair of his own. He swung it over his head and down over the man so that the legs pinned his arms to his sides. The man struggled helplessly, then ran out the Mynock-wing doors with Karlos in pursuit.

Menarggrah grabbed another of the brawlers, lifted him and the man who had vomited on him, then slammed them both together with a roar. He then attempted to throw them up on the chandelier one at a time, but with a ripping of cloth only succeeded in hurtling them into a table. The Wookiee looked around in time to see Dar take out the last three assailants in less than five seconds, a blurring of fists.

Springing out into the street, Karlos spotted his fleeing opponent running at full pace down a side street, the chair still pinning his arms to his sides. The gunslinger stretched out his stride and ran, poncho tassles flapping madly like a small cheering crowd. His quarry made it halfway down the street and lost his balance, falling into the Buutil dust with a crack of wood. Karlos, still enraged, closed the distance and swung a boot at his gut. There was a deep and a stab of pain lanced up Karlos' feet as he connected with the solid wood of the chair, and he hopped in pain until he spotted Straun following him down the alley. Gritting his teeth, he forced a calm, collected presence upon himself.

When they returned to the front of The Sloon, Menarggrah was clean and engaged in dunking the unconscious drunks into a large water trough at the front of the cantina. Karlos switched his gaze to a young boy, perhaps twelve standard years of age, gaping at his hat, poncho, electrospurs and eight-gun in awe.

"You a gunfighter, mister?" he gasped.

Karlos looked him over, then nodded slightly.

The kid grinned. "Call me Blee. I'm gonna be a gunfighter someday. I'll be real fast and shoot straight and everything".

Karlos peered into the kid's eyes, saw the eagerness, naivity and youthful immortality that had caused the death of so many in the name of glory. Saw a young Karlos Trialeki.

"You wanna be a gunslinger, huh kid?"

Blee nodded eagerly.

"You wanna be rough, with only your sidearm for a friend, being no stranger to drink and women?" Another nod.

Karlos palmed iron in a blur, picked off a bottle left on the porch of The Sloon, and spun the eight-gun into it's holster. "This is life at it's best, huh?"

"Yeah!" the kid whispered in excitement.

Karlos dropped to one knee before the kid and raised his poncho to expose the deep ugly scar across his chest, from where a needlebeamer shot had almost killed him while he fled Agost to the Alliance. "How about this, kid? you want one of these too? huh? I've seen close friends die before my eyes, strangers fall before my trigger finger, and death is cold company. Being a wanted man is what it's all about until you realise that you'll never stop looking over your shoulder or sleeping with one eye open. What use is glory when you're lying dead in a gutter because once- just once- you didn't have it when it counted?"

He stood up. "There are things I've seen, and done, and have to do, that weigh heavy on me and will never go away. And you WANT this?" He shook his head and walked away. "Go home. You have a life to live".

Beside Karlos, Straun silently pondered the deeper aspect of Karlos Trialeki that had welled up so abruptly. He had thought that only those with his responsibility to the Force knew of such a burden, but the revelation of the gunfighter's hidden character brought new understanding, and with it a strange sense of brotherhood.

Further up the street, Stoge tried to impress the observers by tossing a bottle into the air and shooting it from the sky. After two wild misses and nearly blasting off a weather vane, he ran out of bottles and gave up in disgust.

When the drunks regained consciousness (a good deal more sober), the man who had hassled Asti apologised sincerely for his behaviour and vowed never to touch the bottle again. Asti, who rightfully concluded that it was only a good dose of alcohol that created the unfortunate incident, magnanimously forgave him. The locals (some of them nursing bruises) cheerfully called it a good fight and suggested they do it all again sometime.

They were all back in The Sloon, having a quiet and friendly drink, when a panicked man ran in the doors with a blaster burn through his hat. "The Engines are comin'! The Engines are comin!"

  _.------------------[ Tales From the RPG of    ]-------------------._
 /  .---------------------------------------------------------------.  \
|  |            ______ ____________   ___      ________              |  |
|  |          /  _____|____    ____| /   \    |   ____  \            |  |
|  |         (  (___       |  |     /     \   |  |____)  )           |  |
|  |          \____  \     |  |    /   ^   \  |   __    /            |  |
|  |_______________)  )    |  |   /  /~~~\  \ |  |   \  \ ___________|  |
|   _________________/     |__|__/__/   __\__\|__|    \______________   |
|   __________  \          /  /   \    |   ____  \   /  _____________   |
|  |          \  \   __   /  /     \   |  |____)  ) (  (___          |  |
|  |           \  \ /  \ /  /   ^   \  |   __    /   \____  \        |  |
|  |            \  ` /\ '  /  /~~~\  \ |  |   \  \ _______)  )       |  |
|  |             \__/  \__/__/     \__\|__|    \____________/        |  |
|  |                                                                 |  |
 \  `---------------------------------------------------------------'  /
  `---------------------[ Adventure 8, pt 2.  ]-----------------------'

Asti : Female Young Jedi. Quiet, cool-headed and sensible.
Stoge : Brashest Pilot.
Straun Solarwind: Young Jedi, trying to follow in his father's footsteps.
Dar : Muscled black native. Prefers the ways of his people to technological means. Uses an ornate sword with his great strength.
Karlos Trialeki : Eight-gun slinger. Deadly with firearms. Running from his past.
Surge : Combat Medic. A man of medicine, knowledge and action.
Menarggrah : Tough, intelligent Wookiee.

                             ----\\----

Several of the townsfolk gasped. The rebels, some tired from the brawl, followed the man outside. His speeder bike hovered at the front of The Sloon, steaming and sparking from a long ride at emergency boost, and they left it there.

They followed the man to the north end of town, to where a small crowd of gathering locals were barricading themselves behind barrels and an old overturned wagon. Surge didn't like the clumsy way they handled their weapons, and resolved to teach them some techniques before they left.

Stoge climbed a drainpipe to the roof of a house and peered out over the plains, shading his eyes from the glare. In the distance they could see a group of specks in the air, approaching fast.

A Wookiee's growl gained his attention. Stoge looked down to see Menarggrah throw the end of a thin synthetic rope up to him. He secured it just below him and prepared to help the Wookiee up, but instead Menarggrah ran to the other side of the street and made the rope fast to a pole, stretching the line across the street three metres up. Menarggrah then took his place alongside the others and readied his blaster rifle.

Within seconds the powerful whine of the swoops reached their ears, followed by the whooping of the gang members. Soon details could be ascertained.

They had skin as black as Dar's, covered with body paint and adorned with feathers. Their weapons were archaic and similar in some aspects to the bowcaster; circuit-covered shortbows that fired projectiles covered in energy cocoons. The missiles sizzled at the defenders of Linkun Cownti as the Red Engines swept in to the attack.

Karlos immediately stood from cover and shot one from the saddle. The explosive bullet blasted off the entire rear end of the swoop, which lost altitude lazily at 360 km/h and demolished a house in a funnel of hurtling debris.

Two of the locals were killed in the first volley of fire and a shot barely missed Asti's head as the swoops screamed overhead. Three roared down the street, one clipping Menarggrah's rope at high speed. The rider was nearly torn in half as his mechanical mount spun into space and exploded. His comrades briefly scattered in a scream of repulsors, clearly not expecting such heavy opposition.

Stoge heavily damaged a swoop with a shot to one of its steering vanes. It wavered, straightened as its rider compensated, then erupted as Karlos killed three gang members in succession. A Red Engine replied by loosing a well-aimed shot that caught Dar in the stomach with a splash of energy. The big warrior coughed violently and hit the dust with a thump, conscious but hurt badly.

{Turn around!} Menarggrah shouted, ducking a shot and blasting another raider as he did so. The people of Linkun Cownti had constructed a barricade for cover, but the Red Engine gang had simply flown past and now moved to attack from the other side, where the defenders were exposed.

Surge, barely hearing him over the sound of blaster fire and screaming engines, puzzled at the slow response of the locals, then -too late- realised that they couldn't understand Wookiee. By then the gang attacked together, laying down a savage barrage of fire from their energy bows that killed a farmer, wounded two others and set a house on fire.

Asti kicked aside a barrel as the fire spread quickly to the barricade and shot a Red Engine as it came in low at the other end of the street. The riderless swoop hit the ground and skittered along the street in a blur, leaving a trail of dust and sparks, then hit the overturned wagon and went up in a crimson explosion that killed the three locals who had been using it for cover.

The remaining three swoops opened their throttles wide and fled at such heavy losses. Karlos killed another before they were out of range.

The whining of the swoop engines faded over the horizon leaving an exhausted silence, broken by the moans of the wounded and the crackle of flames. The survivors did what they could, Surge proving invaluable in his capacity as a medic.

The exhausted rebels rested in the heat of the afternoon, sitting in the shade on a porch. Karlos lamented ruefully at how they had not been able to salvage any of the powerful swoops, but Stoge commented that complex machinery simply did not hit the ground at speeds in excess of 300 kph and survive intact.

Some of them had drifted off to sleep when a small group of the townspeople approached.

"Thet were some mighty fine shootin, boys!" one said, drawing a glare from Asti. "Them Engines won't come back again".

"Glad we could help" said Straun graciously.

The man hesitated. The other locals mumbled incoherently and one nudged him in a gesture of nervousness.

"What is it?" queried Dar.

"I don' wanna impose on you folks" the man stammered "but we've had a bigger problem than the Engine gang, one that's been plaguing us for a long time now, and since you were so good with yer guns an' all, we'd uh, like y'all to help us out".

Asti smiled. "We'll gladly.."

"Hey" cut in Stoge. "What are we, servant droids? We've got out own things to do".

The man winced, then shrugged sadly. "We wuz gonna offer a five thousand credit reward to any.."

"Deal!" said Stoge, leaping to his feet. "Who do I kill? Lemme at 'em".

G.P Vakayshin elbowed his way through and addressed them, waving a hand toward the shimmering expanse of the desert. "Out there somewhere is Turquoise Trab, the most low-down varmint thet ever slung a blaster. Him an' his men raid the homesteads of the good honest folk, burnin' an' pillagin', an' even the Red Engines have steered well clear of him. He moves from place to place, but we seen him sometimes around the ghost city of Dry Gulch, three days ride from here. There's a repulsor stage goin' to the miners up that way tomorrow, and we'd be mighty pleased if you'd ride shotgun".

There was a pregnant pause, then Karlos thumbed up the front of his hat.

"We'll do it" he decided.

"But not just for the money" Straun added, evoking a nod from Asti. "I'm no bounty hunter".

                             ----\\----

He raised his eyes to the stars above, watching the sparks from the burning stumbleweeds fly up into the night as if to join them. Contrast offered itself from the distant night in the form of a shooting star that arced downward from the blackness. Surge was startled when it ceased its plummeting descent and lowered itself slowly over the horizon on reverse thrusters, disappearing toward Dry Gulch.

"A ship!" he exclaimed, pointing.

The stage driver, a bewhiskered old timer, furrowed his brow. "Ain't been no ships over Dry Gulch way since before the scrophox plague that cleared it out back in '43. Y'all want some tea?" he indicated the boiling pot that hung over the coals.

"Sure" Stoge replied instantly. "I'll be in anything but a bath" he held out one of the chipped enamel mugs.

Straun was cautious, perhaps remembering Gaarla. "What is it?".

"A local herb" said the driver. "It's good for yer, though you young 'uns might find it a bit strange on the stomach".

Menarggrah grumbled something about the stage driver (and all humans for that matter) having no concept of age, and grabbed for a mug. Straun declined, but Stoge, Dar, Surge and Menarggrah all downed some of the steaming brew. It took away some of the chill of the desert night.

Peaceful the scene may have been, but when the group lay down to sleep Menarggrah took the first watch, taking no chances.

                             ----\\----

He blinked, shifting his gaze to the sleeping figures beside him. None of them had ever seemed to wonder where Menarggrah had come from, how he arrived on Agost. Even though he was so obviously not a native to the planet, nobody had questioned his past. The Wookiee was glad, feeling an edge of shame lurking somewhere within him, and felt confident that perhaps the past could finally let itself be forgotten.

That's when he heard the breathing.

At first he didn't think it was breathing so much as a mechanical rasping, cold and regulated. When it at last hissed with certainity from the other side of the firelight, Menarggrah started. Despite his size, skill, combat experience and the comfort of the blaster rifle in his hands, the Wookiee actually felt the icy touch of fear.

The tall, black form of Darth Vader, Lord of the Sith, stepped from the shadows and regarded Menarggrah. His stance projected his air of pure, evil power, a totality of confidence that radiated outward from his dark soul.

In less than a second, the Wookiee had glanced to his helpless, sleeping friends, fought down the urge to flee and decided his course of action (and, perhaps, his fate). He snapped the blaster rifle to his shoulder and fired, the noise of the shot startling the rebels from their slumber.

The blaster bolt flashed across the campsite and seemed to BEND to meet Vader's hand. It was absorbed without a sound, the only result being that one of the Dark Lord's fingers now glowed a bright red.

Menarggrah fired again, and again. Each shot merely made another finger glow, and when the whole hand was afire with energy Vader released it toward the Wookiee. Menarggrah howled as the energy struck him, then dropped the rifle and charged.

One hundred and sixty kilos of hurtling Wookiee crashed into the space where the Dark Lord, until recently, had stood. Menarggrah scowled as he pitched facefirst into the sand.

He lifted his head. Lord Vader now stood some distance away, arms folded before him. The Wookiee gathered himself up and leaped again, with just as much success.

Then there stood the Dark Lord again, but as Menarggrah threw himself madly toward his target it vanished, leaving behind a large boulder that the Wookiee crashed into headfirst.

He shook his head. Now there were stars both in the sky and everywhere else. In front of him stood a stormtrooper, armed with a bowcaster. A bowcaster? but humans weren't strong enough to use them! Briefly, Menarggrah lamented that he couldn't use his very well yet either.

The trooper expertly spun the archaic weapon around his hand, tossed it over his head, caught it behind him and twirled it into ready position. At almost point-blank range, he shot Menarggrah in the leg.

The Wookiee bellowed in rage and punched the trooper in the head. The white armoured figure flew backward, dropping the weapon, and Menarggrah bent down to pick it up. But as he grasped it, it had suddenly become a thick metal cable that extended to the right. The Wookiee's eyes slowly followed the cable as it snaked over to a power generator that stood two stories high.

The stormtrooper stood by a huge switch. Though he was masked, Menarggrah knew that he was smiling.

The switch went down and so did Menarggrah, rigid and shaking with the electricity before lapsing into darkness.

  _.------------------[ Tales From the RPG of    ]-------------------._
 /  .---------------------------------------------------------------.  \
|  |            ______ ____________   ___      ________              |  |
|  |          /  _____|____    ____| /   \    |   ____  \            |  |
|  |         (  (___       |  |     /     \   |  |____)  )           |  |
|  |          \____  \     |  |    /   ^   \  |   __    /            |  |
|  |_______________)  )    |  |   /  /~~~\  \ |  |   \  \ ___________|  |
|   _________________/     |__|__/__/   __\__\|__|    \______________   |
|   __________  \          /  /   \    |   ____  \   /  _____________   |
|  |          \  \   __   /  /     \   |  |____)  ) (  (___          |  |
|  |           \  \ /  \ /  /   ^   \  |   __    /   \____  \        |  |
|  |            \  ` /\ '  /  /~~~\  \ |  |   \  \ _______)  )       |  |
|  |             \__/  \__/__/     \__\|__|    \____________/        |  |
|  |                                                                 |  |
 \  `---------------------------------------------------------------'  /
  `---------------------[ Adventure 8  pt  3. ]-----------------------'

Asti : Female Young Jedi. Quiet, cool-headed and sensible.
Stoge : Brashest Pilot.
Straun Solarwind: Young Jedi, trying to follow in his father's footsteps.
Dar : Muscled black native. Prefers the ways of his people to technological means. Uses an ornate sword with his great strength.
Karlos Trialeki : Eight-gun slinger. Deadly with firearms. Running from his past.
Surge : Combat Medic. A man of medicine, knowledge and action.
Menarggrah : Tough, intelligent Wookiee.

THE STORY SO FAR: The PCs, after delivering some mail to the Buutil system, have been hired to ride shotgun on a repulsorlift stagecoach. At night, in the middle of the desert, some of them are feeling the hallucinogenic effects of a local herbal drink.

----\\----

The sudden shot of Menarggrah's blaster rifle lurched Stoge from his slumber. In the split-second he had between sleep and alertness he wondered why the Wookiee would be firing his weapon.

Upon awakening, however, he guessed immediately. Above him, filling the sky, were thousands upon thousands of TIE fighters engaged in wheeling combat with fighters of the Rebellion: Z-95s, X-Wings and Y-Wings. Laser fire criscrossed the sky before the brilliant backdrop of twinkling stars, and the scream of twin ion engines shattered the darkness.

Stoge looked around him. There was time for only a moment of curiosity at why his friends seemed not to notice the TIEs before he remembered the campfire and realised that they must be visible from the air.

He looked up worriedly, too late. One of the TIEs swept down toward them (it was now the only TIE in the sky, but Stoge didn't notice), the cannons mounted in its chin blazing intense beams of death. Stoge ran, bolting away from the campsite and out across the desert night, the TIE's fire striking behind him and vaporizing craters of the sandy surface. He glanced back in time to see a vivid blue flash as it released a proton torpedo.

TIE fighters may not have been able to fire proton torpedoes, but this fact was scarcely Stoge's major concern at the time. He threw himself desperately to the ground as the projectile detonated, magnifying his leap and pitching him onto his face.

He rolled over painfully and spat in disgust. The TIE arced across the night and was in the process of coming around again when a great dark hand reached up from the darkness and caught it, crushing it into metallic dust.

Stoge had heard stories of a rancor, but didn't think it would be so HUGE. The hunched monstrosity that hove from the dark was at least fifteen metres tall at the shoulder. It dropped the shards to the ground and looked down at him.

Stoge felt very small.

The pilot drew his blaster, ruefully noting how puny a weapon it now seemed. Barely needing to aim, he fired two shots into its leg.

The thing roared, a terrifying sound that echoed across the stillness, and with one great step closed the gap between them. A massive fist swung down and mashed Stoge flat to the ground, out cold.

----\\----

Before the Wookiee's first blaster rifle shot had ceased echoing, Dar had sprung to his feet, awakened and alert with the blood pounding in his ears.

Pounding, pounding.

He heard the drums.

Near the edge of the camp, twelve painted, pelt-clad Agostian women danced the dance of tribal welcome, weaving among each other and waving their arms like the grass in a fresh breeze.

Dar joined them, as was his duty. He danced, tossing his hair back and forth to complement the gentle waving of his arms. The drums pounded on.

The muscled warrior then noticed that more and more had joined them, widening the moving circle. Dar cast himself prone with the death of the stalk, then fluidly jumped in the air and threw his arms upward in tribute to the new plant bursting fresh from the seed.

There were over fifty dancers now, and the circle was centred on Asti. She seemed unaware of what was happening around her.

When a priestess moved to Asti and knelt behind her, Dar became slightly suspicious. The woman slowly drew a long, curved, sacrificial dagger, Dar was shocked at such a dishonourable act, and momentarily torn as to what to do.

Then he noticed that the priestess, and indeed all the dancers, were not of his tribe.

Without hesitation he drew his sword and moved to save Asti.

----\\----

Straun Solarwind awoke from the sound of the first shot and, before Menarggrah had finished firing the fifth, concluded that everyone had gone totally nuts.

Stoge bolted out of the campsite, threw himself onto his face, fired two shots from his blaster and then threw himself to the ground and began to snore. Menarggrah lurched, then ran and dived repeatedly at thin air. This carried him off into the darkness from where Straun heard a heavy thud. Dar appeared to have some sort of problem with biting insects, judging from the way he was stomping around, and beside him Surge grasped at nothing and started rolling around, screaming "It's got me! It's got me!".

Asti took in all the strange happenings and threw Karlos a puzzled look that he mirrored.

Straun looked over to the repulsor stage. The driver, who had given them the strange tea, was talking to one of the speeder bikes, sobbing to it the story of how a woman left him. Surge suddenly went limp as the scaled sand-serpent he had been wrestling constricted him beyond consciousness.

The scraping sound of a sword being drawn gained his attention. Dar, his gleaming blade in hand, advanced upon Asti with purpose. Straun drew his blaster, hesitating. Was Dar only joking? he'd never seen the warrior joke before.

When Dar raised his sword, he knew he couldn't take the chance. switching his blaster to stun, Straun shot Dar in the midsection, and the dark-skinned native fell to the sand.

Karlos grunted and went back to sleep.

----\\----

When morning dawned, grey and harsh, Asti stirred them all awake to continue the journey. Some of them didn't stir right away, suffering a gut-wrenching hangover from the tea's effects. Stoge thought the stuff was pretty good, but the stage driver assured them that after the first try the effects were less dramatic.

They took turns to watch atop the coach as it sped across the desert, staying alert and sweeping the horizon, but nothing threatened them on that day either. Slightly behind schedule, they were forced to spend another night in the desert (during which Dar tracked and killed a centedillo, which everyone agreed was delicious), and reached their destination early the next morning.

The miners lived in an old shack a few kilometres from the ghost city of Dry Gulch, its silent, empty towers looming ominously in the distance as they unloaded the supplies from the repulsor stage.

{Let's search the city} suggested Menarggrah.

"This Turqoise Trab and his men could be anywhere" scepticised Surge. "A city's a big place".

Dar set down a crate. "We don't need to search the whole place" he stated. "All we have to do is look for tracks". After the demonstration of his skill the night before, everyone agreed that this was a valid point, and they walked the short distance to the ghost city in the heat of the day.

Before long the large, empty buildings sprawled around them as a desolate, artificial forest that shimmered in the heat haze. The slight wind gave a lonely howl as it swept through the buildings and stirred the dust along the street. This was of immediate concern to Dar, but the breeze didn't overly disturb the tracks.

The dark native crouched and studied the ground for a moment, then began to move forward intently.

"What've you found?" inquired Surge, almost catching his foot on some stumbleweed.

"A creature's tracks" answered Dar. "Leading there" he snapped a finger toward a desolate, two-story building in an alley.

"I say we check it out" opted Stoge, who was getting bored. Asti, Surge and Straun followed him toward it as Menarggrah, Dar and Karlos went further up the street in search of something more worthwhile.

----\\----

As they neared the building, Asti and Straun had little trouble taking over where Dar had left off. The creature's tracks were quite large and pronounced, and they followed them inside.

The place was obviously another cantina, though long past being habitable. A small stage featured a large keyed instrument, to one side was some sort of archaic, credit operated music machine, and in the middle of the room was a table on which sat some orbs, presumably some sort of game. The whole place was covered in cobwebs and dust.

They ascended some stairs to another level, little more than a balcony with a fire-escape ladder leading back down. Straun took in the whole scene and pondered what a great music holovid it would make.

----\\----

Meanwhile, the others approached one of the tallest buildings in the ghost city with intent to climb to the top and see what options were given them by the view. As they approached, Dar spotted more tracks leading to it and identified them as human or near-human.

The building was very old, and Dar swore he could feel the structure swaying as they laboriously climbed the stairs. When they were forced to cross a level to reach other stairs on the far side they tried to keep to the edges, fearing that to walk in the middle of the floor was to invite collapse. Menarggrah edged along a wall, for the first time regretting that he weighed so much as the floor creaked. Wind ruffled at his fur through a large broken window, out of which they could see out over much of the city. They were almost at the top.

Karlos suddenly saw movement out of the corner of his eye as a ear-splitting, toothless scream reached his ears. A figure sprang from a niche in the wall toward him in a blur, and Karlos barely had time to glimpse purple battle armour as Bobb the Feet sailed past him, white beard trailing, and vanished through the fragile flooring with a crash. The three rebels heard further sounds as the professor-turned-bounty-hunter kept on going.

(crash!)
(crash!)
(crash!)
(crash!)
(crash!)
(crash!)
(whtang!)

Gingerly Karlos craned his neck out over the hole. Many stories down he could see the luckless man spread-eagled on the floor. A pained groan floated up to them. Karlos started toward the stairs back down.

"Hailp meh! Hailp meh!"

The accented cry of distress, a woman's voice, sounded from above them. Dar and Menarggrah ran for the stairs leading upward, and Karlos reluctantly followed.

They soon reached the top level, even more littered with old furniture and bits of junk than the other levels had been. Karlos stayed warily at the stairs as the other two moved into a large room.

A thick-set man dressed in shabby clothes held an old blaster carbine to the head of a struggling woman.

"No sudden moves" he warned the rebels.

Dar and Menarggrah edged closer to the man, thinking hard. Karlos, sure that he hadn't been seen, attempted to position himself for a clear shot when more than twenty people stood up from concealment among the furniture, blasters trained on the two. Another three approached Karlos from cover.

"Who are they?" the bandit said to nobody in particular. "Some of Trab's gang?" he released the woman, who regarded the rebels indignantly. "Nice blaster rifle" she said to the Wookiee. "I think I'm going to like it".

  _.------------------[ Tales From the RPG of    ]-------------------._
 /  .---------------------------------------------------------------.  \
|  |            ______ ____________   ___      ________              |  |
|  |          /  _____|____    ____| /   \    |   ____  \            |  |
|  |         (  (___       |  |     /     \   |  |____)  )           |  |
|  |          \____  \     |  |    /   ^   \  |   __    /            |  |
|  |_______________)  )    |  |   /  /~~~\  \ |  |   \  \ ___________|  |
|   _________________/     |__|__/__/   __\__\|__|    \______________   |
|   __________  \          /  /   \    |   ____  \   /  _____________   |
|  |          \  \   __   /  /     \   |  |____)  ) (  (___          |  |
|  |           \  \ /  \ /  /   ^   \  |   __    /   \____  \        |  |
|  |            \  ` /\ '  /  /~~~\  \ |  |   \  \ _______)  )       |  |
|  |             \__/  \__/__/     \__\|__|    \____________/        |  |
|  |                                                                 |  |
 \  `---------------------------------------------------------------'  /
  `---------------------[ Adventure 8 pt 4.   ]-----------------------'

Asti : Female Young Jedi. Quiet, cool-headed and sensible.
Stoge : Brashest Pilot.
Straun Solarwind: Young Jedi, trying to follow in his father's footsteps.
Dar : Muscled black native. Prefers the ways of his people to technological means. Uses an ornate sword with his great strength.
Karlos Trialeki : Eight-gun slinger. Deadly with firearms. Running from his past.
Surge : Combat Medic. A man of medicine, knowledge and action.
Menarggrah : Tough, intelligent Wookiee.

----\\----

A tense near-silence reigned in the cluttered room as Dar and Menarggrah stood ringed by blaster rifles, the only sounds those of the wind as it howled through the tall building, and the subtle creaking of the floor supports. Near the stairs, Karlos' captors kept their guns readied for the slightest movement, and the gunslinger reluctantly kept his hands high. Dar struck a defensive stance and turned his head slightly toward the Wookiee.

"Plan?" he said softly.

Menarggrah held his blaster rifle in an unthreatening manner and thought quickly. If they tried to fight their way out he'd be dead before he brought his weapon up into ready position.

But then, perhaps he didn't have to..

{Going down} he woofed, giving Dar almost half a second for it to sink in before pressing the trigger, ducking as he did so.

The floor under them lurched as the heavy energy bolt punched through with no resistance. Due to the weakness of the flooring and the weight of the two, the gap began to widen instantly, but a lightning sword-slash from Dar turned it into a gaping hole which they fell through roughly as the bandits opened up, some hitting each other across the circle.

As the men guarding Karlos looked away, the gunslinger dropped a hand under his poncho. The pin popped free as he wrenched one of his few grenades to the floor, then he sprang for the stairs.

His planned leap illustrated the heights to which Karlos' skill had climbed. A flip toward the stairs, drawing as he did so and firing at one of his opponents while inverted. It all seemed so easy.

At least, in theory. The rebel gunfighter miscalculated the leap, fired a clumsy shot into the floor and tumbled unceremoniously down the stairs with an irregular thumping sound. He swore profusely but this was drowned by the blast as the grenade went off.

----\\----

Asti clung to the handrail and systematically scanned the area below. After leaving the deserted cantina, she (with Stoge, Straun and Surge) had scaled another of the larger buildings, a domed construction, to look for any signs of habitation.

Surge tapped at the rail curiously and watched thick flakes of rust fall to the smooth dome, sliding the perilous distance to the ground. When the distant blast reached his ears, he jerked his head toward the sound. On the top story of another of the largest buildings, a corpse cartwheeled into space in a shower of glass and masonry and began the long fall to the ground.

Straun, blaster in hand, hurried back the way they had come as quickly as the corroded walkway would safely allow, the others close behind.

----\\----

Menarggrah had thought his escape plan was pretty good until he reached the floor below and crashed through it as well. After seeing Bobb The Feet so recently go through so much of the fragile flooring, the Wookiee had every reason to be concerned at his superior weight. As the next floor rushed up at him, he desperately splayed out his limbs as much as possible, trying to spread his weight over a larger area. He landed hard and the floor bent downward with a terrible creak, but by luck or design the flooring held, and remained whole as Dar landed roughly beside him.

There was a shuddering blast as Karlos' grenade erupted overhead, then the spattering of shrapnel faded to the scraping of junk as the contents of the top floor slid toward their escape hole.

Wookiee and warrior scrambled desperately to either side as a torrent of debris hurtled down at them. Furniture, storage crates, and a couple of bodies formed a brief pile between them before breaking through the flooring and cascading noisily downward.

A timid silence ensued as the two lay exhausted on the fragile floor of the room, which had filled with dust. Karlos shuffled down the stairs to them.

"Some are still alive up there, and I'll bet they're mad" he croaked, coughing. Dar nodded as he climbed gingerly to his feet, and the three moved toward the stairs.

The Wookiee's comlink crackled. "Menarggrah?" Asti's voice queried.

"Yraagh" Menarggrah assured her that they were all right.

"Get out of there quick" Asti said. "Trab's men are here, and they're blowing up the building".

----\\----

Straun, Asti, Surge and Stoge ran for the building from which the body had hurtled. As they drew near they saw three men working at its base that fired some hurried shots before running for cover around some other buildings.

The rebels ran after them, stopping at the building's base when they spied the bomb affixed to one of the supports. Asti informed Menarggrah over the comlink, then joined Surge in studying the device and the glowing counter that glared at them as it ticked to oblivion.

"It's no good" the medic said at last. "Karlos might be able to stop it, but not me" Asti nodded in agreement.

"Then let's get clear" Straun suggested the obvious.

"And blast the suckers that set it" Stoge added, waving his blaster recklessly.

They ran.

----\\----

By the time they had bounded down two flights of stairs, Dar knew that their descent was taking too long and they were liable to quickly end up as organic glue between large slabs of masonry. Menarggrah seemed to think so too, striding quickly to one of the windows and unreeling a thin, strong wire cable from his bandolier. He affixed it to the frame and threw himself out the window, grasping the cable tightly.

Tick.

With a whipping jerk the cable failed to take the strain. Staying fixed to the window frame, it cut deep into Menarggrah's hands before he reflexively let go and fell the three stories to the ground.

Tick.

Karlos opted to slide down the cable. As he stepped to the window frame, he glanced around the junk and picked up an old book that he snapped around the cable and clung to tightly, trying to avoid cable burn.

The book slid away from the cable and Karlos fell into space, landing hard on the Wookiee who vainly tried to catch him.

Tick.

Dar, fighting a rising sense of fear, scanned the floor around him looking for something to avert the laceration of his hands. Nothing presented itself, so the burly warrior shamelessly tore his loincloth free and wrapped it around the cable.

Tick.

Frantically, Dar threw himself out the window.

The sharp clap of an explosion cut the air, and the building seemed to bend away from him, collapsing in the opposite direction as Dar sailed free, slipping from the cable. He hit the ground unevenly, uttering a grunt that was lost in the terrifying peals of crashing rock and metal. Several large chunks fell close to the three as they scrambled desperately away from the disaster amid a blinding cloud of dust.

----\\----

"Can't see a damn thing" Stoge stated decisively, squinting through the dust. A blaster bolt flashed toward his voice and he decided to shut up.

Asti paused, suppressing the urge to see, and instead tried to feel. Swinging her blaster suddenly, she shot one of Trab's demolition men through the head. The sound of hurried footsteps faded into the distance as the dust- cloud settled and the rebels began to see each other. Straun was looking behind them.

"Dar" he said, motioning to the body, "put some pants on".

Dar studied the tracks intently and followed them at a rapid pace, walking awkwardly in the unfamiliar trousers and ignoring comments from Stoge at how cute his sweaty, naked body had been.

  _.------------------[ Tales From the RPG of    ]-------------------._
 /  .---------------------------------------------------------------.  \
|  |            ______ ____________   ___      ________              |  |
|  |          /  _____|____    ____| /   \    |   ____  \            |  |
|  |         (  (___       |  |     /     \   |  |____)  )           |  |
|  |          \____  \     |  |    /   ^   \  |   __    /            |  |
|  |_______________)  )    |  |   /  /~~~\  \ |  |   \  \ ___________|  |
|   _________________/     |__|__/__/   __\__\|__|    \______________   |
|   __________  \          /  /   \    |   ____  \   /  _____________   |
|  |          \  \   __   /  /     \   |  |____)  ) (  (___          |  |
|  |           \  \ /  \ /  /   ^   \  |   __    /   \____  \        |  |
|  |            \  ` /\ '  /  /~~~\  \ |  |   \  \ _______)  )       |  |
|  |             \__/  \__/__/     \__\|__|    \____________/        |  |
|  |                                                                 |  |
 \  `---------------------------------------------------------------'  /
  `---------------------[ Adventure 8 pt 5.   ]-----------------------'

Asti : Female Young Jedi. Quiet, cool-headed and sensible.
Stoge : Brashest Pilot.
Straun Solarwind: Young Jedi, trying to follow in his father's footsteps.
Dar : Muscled black native. Prefers the ways of his people to technological means. Uses an ornate sword with his great strength.
Karlos Trialeki : Eight-gun slinger. Deadly with firearms. Running from his past.
Surge : Combat Medic. A man of medicine, knowledge and action.
Menarggrah : Tough, intelligent Wookiee.

THE STORY SO FAR: Making some money taking a cargo run to the Buutil system, the rebels have been caught up in the plight of the townsfolk of Linkun Cownti. After fighting off a swoop gang and cheating death in a collapsing building, they now stalk their assailants in a ghost city...

----\\----

Dar studied the tracks intently and followed them at a rapid pace, walking awkwardly in the unfamiliar trousers and ignoring comments from Stoge at how cute his sweaty, naked body had been. Tracking soon became unnecessary when Trab's man (and Trab, presumably) roared out of a street in a scream of repulsors and sped out of the city, ignoring hurried shots from Karlos and Menarrgrah.

"They're heading back toward Linkun Cownti" obsever Straun with concern, shading his eyes against the glare.

Surge shrugged. "Not much we can do about it now".

"We have to go back" objected Asti. "If this Turquoise Trab figures out that we were hired by the people of Linkun Cownti, he might try a little retribution on them".

Dar followed the tracks back to what was obviously the bandits' hide- out, adorned and littered with stolen goods. It offered no clues, so they ran back to the miners' hut. Boarding the repulsor stage quickly, they redlined it all the way to Linkun Cownti, making the return journey in just over two days. The rebels were sure that they had beaten their quarry to the town but the harsh desert offered no clues. When they reached Linkun Cownti, Turquoise Trab and his gang were nowhere to be seen.

----\\----

Karlos thumped the control board in irritation. "They must have fled into the mountains. Scan that range again; they can't have shut down ALL their electricals".

Asti's hands flew over the sensor controls as the FELL INFIDEL coasted far above the desert. Their efforts to find the elusive bandit had proved fruitless, and they were torn between giving up in frustration and leaving the townspeople at the mercy of the gang.

"We've been up here for hours" Stoge's voice echoed their sentiments from the Z-98 Renegade that moved in to flank the INFIDEL. "We would have found something by now". Menarggrah growled agreement from the pilot's chair of the INFIDEL.

"Just one more pass on that cany-" Straun began to plead until Kockhic's voice addressed them over the comm.

"Offworlders, hoof it down here quick! Trab's holed up in the town hall an' he's shootin' at anything thet moves!"

----\\----

They found Kochic and G.P with a small cluster of locals waiting between two buildings, every so often glancing around the corner at the town hall. Periodically a blaster shot came their way as Trab let them know he meant business.

"Where are the offworlders?" his voice snarled from the hall. "Show me your hired thugs!"

Dar stepped from cover catlike, ready to dodge if need be. After a moment, he motioned the rebels forward.

A man stood with a commanding stance in the doorway of the town hall. He was tall and, despite the heat, dressed from head to toe in rich black garments that made him appear a gentleman, and a well-travelled one at that. A thin moustache lined his upper lip, and under his black hat his beady eyes glared at them.

Trab had indeed travelled the galaxy for many years. He'd done more than his share of bounty hunting, and still kept a few contacts (Bobb the Feet had come looking for a few pointers on which end of the gun was which). It was from Bobb that he had learned of the challenge, and it was for the challenge that he had come to Linkun Cownti. He held a heavy blaster casually, so it wasn't directly threatening the rebels but could be used at a moment's notice.

"My men inside have their guns on you" he shouted. Asti noticed that Trab's blaster was back in his holster but didn't recall seeing him move.

Any of the rebels could have shot Trab, but any of Trab's men could have shot them. They stood in the shimmering heat, and waited to see what he wanted.

"I'm here for only one thing" shouted Turquoise Trab. "I hear that this man Trialeki is making a name for himself". He regarded Karlos and his eyes narrowed to slits. He didn't complete the challenge.

Nor did he need to.

The (chink-chink) of Karlos' electrospurs sounded as he stepped forward, waving his friends aside. Straun had his doubts about the point of such a confrontation, but Karlos seemed transformed. It was like he was alone in the dusty street.

And when the rebels moved reluctantly back, he was.

"We're going to just let this happen?" Asti, like many of them, was torn as to a course of action.

Stoge grunted. "If he puts that sucker in the ground, the people of Linkun Cownti will be free". There was a mechanical wheeling sound behind them.

"A showdown!" exclaimed Veet. He began to whistle some strange music.

The rebels stood mesmerised by the sight as Trab walked slowly down the town hall steps and stood in the street, facing Karlos. Unnoticed, Menarggrah took G.P Vaykashin aside and began to talk to him (assisted by the droid). After a moment, they vanished down a side street.

The gunfighters faced off.

A silence settled on the street that was almost painful. Surge took in the scene with helpless anticipation, noting that his friends had all drawn their blasters (he did likewise). He squinted at the sun. It was directly above them.

Then he noticed a figure, standing deep in the shadows of a doorway, a short distance behind them. His spine tingled as he recognised a glint of purple battle armour.

Raising his stun blaster, Bobb the Feet sighted carefully and prepared to extract his final revenge on Karlos Trialeki.

Trab and Trialeki stood facing each other with feet apart, hands at the ready. A light breeze stirred Trialeki's poncho tassels and Trab's string tie, the only movement as the gunfighters concentrated. Inside the hall, Trab's men sighted at the rebels in case of treachery and held their breath.

To the observers, it seemed to happen so slowly. An indistinct blur, Trab's hand flashed to his holster and began to draw, Karlos mirroring his movement.

But the blue energy of a stun blast from behind Karlos, poorly aimed at him, flashed past the rebel and struck Trab as Karlos brought up his eight-gun. Karlos fired as Trab crumpled unconscious, the explosive bullet whizzing through the space where his head had been and blasting the town hall door like a thunderclap. [GM's note: this was rolled!]

"Treachery!" came the cry from the hall. Trab's men burst through the doors firing from the hip. Blaster fire criscrossed the street, broken only by the hammering of a submachine slugthrower wielded by one of the bandits.

"Keep down, boss" Veet wheeled in front of Straun, a small flap below his photoreceptor sliding upward. Thick black smoke jetted from the droid and in seconds obscured all vision in the dusty street.

When he heard the first shots, Menarggrah kicked in the back door to the town hall with a roar and hoped G.P was in position to enter through a side window. A man stood on the far side of the doorway bringing his blaster carbine to bear on the Wookiee but Menarrgrah fired first, blasting the man backward and causing his shot to fly into the wall. The sudden screams of two female hostages almost caused them to be killed by reflex shots from the Wookiee, then he moved further into the building.

In the next room two men were waiting for him. A shot stung the Wookiee's ribs before he wasted them both at close range. More blaster fire could be heard from a room to the right.

Bursting in, Menarggrah immediately beheld four corpses lying scattered about the room, the large double doors open to the smoky street, and G.P Vakayshin slumped in the arms of Dar, who had entered from the front.

The old gunfighter stirred weakly. "Dang, I ain't as fast as I used ta be. Now that Karlos lad, he-" he broke into coughing and clutched his side, and Menarggrah noticed with concern that blood was seeping through his fingers.

The Wookiee pointed out the door as a frown crossed his features. {Surge..} he said.

Dar shook his head. G.P's breath left him with a sigh, and the warrior eased his body to the ground.

Breaking out of the smoke, Stoge ran from the fighting. Trab's men had poured from the hall (he suspected there had been more in other buildings) and now seemed to be everywhere, shooting at the rebels, fleeing locals, or firing blindly into the smoke.

Mind you, that wasn't why Stoge was running.

Seeing two of the bandits on a rooftop, he lifted his blaster and shot both in rapid succession. They both clutched their chests in exaggerated movements, did a puppetlike quarter-turn and toppled to the street.

Purposefully, Stoge ran on.

----\\----

"Great one, Veet. I can't see a damn thing" Straun mumbled sarcasm at the droid and assumed he was in earshot, squinting through the smoke.

But that wasn't true, because now he COULD see something. An indistinct figure moving slowly through the smoke, away from him.

"Surge?" Straun whispered cautiously. The figure moved toward him, and Straun could then make out another detail. The glint of a knife almost one and a half feet long.

Moving confidently toward the hazy figure of his quarry, the bandit whipped the knife through the smoke ahead of him.

Suddenly a bright blue light sizzled into being before him, long and deep in colour. Before the man could react to this it moved swiftly through the smoke and his chest.

----\\----

"The smoke is thinning" Surge told Asti quickly, drawing a burst from the machine gun that made them both duck. The medic fired a few hasty shots in retaliation and peered anxiously around for more of his comrades. The roar of Karlos' eight-gun struck his ears, followed by a scream.

The smoke started to swirl away and disperse. Asti motioned them forward, then screamed herself as steel-jacketed slugs clipped her vest and ribs.

Two of the bandits (one the machine-gunner) whooped in truimph as Asti crumpled to the street and Surge dropped prone. The blaster-carbine wielder sighted for a kill shot when he noticed the swirling of dust and his comrade look up, dumbfounded.

As the deafening scream of powerful engines drowned out all sound, the huge shape of a Z-98 starfighter lowered itself to first-floor height in front of the two, Stoge grinning evilly out the cockpit at them. A blaster carbine shot whined harmlessly off the fuselage before he pressed the button and the four triple blasters hammered out, disintegrating the bandits and the shopfront they were in front of.

The Z-98 lifted to the sky as an uneasy silence settled on the street. With the smoke dispersed, Karlos took in the surroundings with darting eyes. Turquoise Trab was nowhere in sight.

----\\----

Asti sat on the hall steps, clenching her teeth as Surge set her wounds with synthflesh. Karlos clutched his left shoulder and waited patiently, having taken a hit through the smoke. Slightly dizzy from the pain of the wound, he lifted his hat and scratched his head. Bobb the feet was gone too (he was good at that), but Trab must have recovered quickly from the stun to be able to leave, unless one of his men had been able to help him or he hadn't gone very-

"Trialeki!" called a voice in clipped tones.

Karlos whirled quickly, held his fire. Emerging from the doorway of a nearby house, Trab held his blaster to the head of Blee, the kid. Blee's earlier enthusiasm to become a gunfighter seemed to have left him, replaced by sheer terror.

{Get around him} Menarggrah waved Dar to the right and edged to the left. He didn't want Trab to escape a second time.

"You let the kid go, we let you go" offered Straun loudly.

Turquoise Trab smiled under his thin moustache. "I can do better than that. I'll let this child go in return for a shot -interrupted- at Trialeki. If I win, THEN you let me go".

Straun was stunned to silence. That the bandit leader would trust the rebels' word showed a strange kind of trust he had not encountered before.

Karlos understood the proposal even further. Though he had only recently seen the man for the first time, They had faced each other in the pure intimacy of combat to the death. Trab was a gunfighter too, and knew just what Karlos wanted most.

A chance to know what would have happened. To find out who was the best.

After being denied that chance by Bobb the Feet, Karlos could not pass it up a second time. "Get back, all of you" he waved his friends away and tried to put aside the burning pain in his shoulder.

Straun moved back obediently, confident to trust Karlos and glad that Stoge was somewhere far overhead. Dar saw the honourable side of the bargain and moved over to Menarggrah. The Wookiee complied with Karlos' request but kept his weapon readied in case of a trick.

As the two gunfighters moved into position, Stoge made a low, high- speed pass over the street, raising a plume of dust that settled over the living and the dead.

Then they were ready, feet apart, eyes narrowed. The air seemed to thicken.

They went for their guns. Despite his pain, Karlos' speed did not fail him. The eight-gun leaped from its holster an eyeblink faster than Trab's blaster, and the slugthrower barked savagely. The bullet caught Trab in the upper left torso, spinning him slightly as he fired an instant later. As the shot hit him in the midsection, the shock and pain of both wounds exploded inside Karlos, and the blackness claimed him. He dropped backward into the dust as Trab fell to one knee, gasping in agony.

Karlos had fired first. But Turquoise Trab had won.

They just watched him walk away, a sense of numbness holding them in place. Surge did his best for Karlos, then Menarggrah carried him to the sick bay of the INFIDEL where he lay in a deep coma. Blee vowed never to become a gunfighter and ran to find his mother.

Asti relayed the turn of events to Stoge via comlink. The pilot spotted a speeder heading out of Linkun Cownti, and swung in low to try and see if the driver was Trab or Bobb (in which case he'd gun them down mercilessly) or a local. Seeing that the speeder's cockpit was opaque, he cursed bitterly and swung his craft back toward his friends.

Inside the speeder, Turquoise Trab clutched his wound, his hand slick with blood, and also cursed. He had won, but Trialeki had been faster. And Trialeki was still alive. These factors, combined, pointed to one conclusion.

There would be a next time.

----\\----

The sun over Buutil sat low in the sky, lengthening the shadows of the rebels and townspeople gathered in a small assembly at the rear of the ship.

Kochic, haunted by the death of G.P, nevertheless shared the jubilation felt by all the townspeople at the dispersement of the Red Engine swoop gang and the saving of the town from Trab's band of desperados.

"Take this" he said "here is the five thousand credits we offered as a reward".

Straun weighed the sack in his hand and smiled. "Our reward.."

"..is gonna get spent on booze and parties for the next year" said Stoge, reaching for the sack. After some bickering with Menarggrah he conceded to allowing the money to be spent upgrading the INFIDEL.

With a passive round of waving from the townspeople and Veet whistling more strange music, the FELL INFIDEL lifted into the sunset and was gone.

[GM'S NOTE: For those not susceptible to the cryptic and subtle, here are
the "typical western" references used in this adventure:
        Buutil                  Boot Hill
        Kockhic                 Hickock (Wild Bill)
        G.P Vakayshin           Doc Holliday
        Blee the kid            you figure it out
        Red Engines             Red Injuns
        Turquoise Trab          Black Bart